Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 97 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—_- —— — - — — ———— “What good’ll thal with a deliberation which chilled the young man’s hopes still more—‘‘ they will be out 0’ sight or hearin’ long afore you can overtake ‘em. And on such a night as this, what can you do? *Tain’t likely they’ll keep in the right road: and if they did, and heerd you after ‘om, they could dodge you easy.” ‘‘T know it,” was the desponding reply. ‘‘ Jes’ tell a friend what’s up, won’t yer? If IT can help you, I will. But what in creation all this rumpus means is more’n I can guess, Old Hickory is put to his stumps. Here you are, racing out in the rain, with the devil himself for a friend, and a woman a-hollerin’ and yell- in’, and two men runnin’ after her—it beats me to make head or tail of it. Pm rather partike- lar about the company I keep, and the fust thing I want settled before I offer my company, is, whether that’s the old feller himself?” mean- ing Brutus. - Tf Caleb had not been so troubled in his mind he would have enjoyed the hunter’s perturba- tion about Brutus. As it was, he could not be otherwise than serious; he answered, plain- ly: vieYou know Squire Claiborne? Well, that’s his colored boy, who cares for his horses and drives for him, He’s a very peculiar ‘nigger’ at all times; and to-night he’s fixed himself up in this style for some purpose, I expect.” ‘‘ Jes’ as we hunters fix ourselves to fool the deer,” interposed Hickory. ‘Isee now. He’s out on the trail of somethin’, and he’s dressed himself to swit.” “T was going to the squire’s—expected to reach there to-night; but it rained so Mtl hard, T concluded to stop at Coon’s till daylight—it’s -only about three miles further to the squire’s. What has happened, I can — Won ben, if I thought you could assist me, I’d tell you all about it.” ‘*T’m willin’ to lend a hand, if it’s anything in my line.” ‘You know the country better than any other man in the State, I’ve been told.” ‘So they say.’ ‘Well, I hope, then, that you can help me. You have heard of the Harpes?” ‘“ Heard of ’em!” exclaimed the hunter, with an oath. ‘* Who hain’t heard of them infernal demons. I'd consider it the biggest hunt I ever made, if I could unearth them wild beasts, It works on my mind, to think I hain’t trapped ’em yet.” *'Those men who have just escaped us are the Harpes!” “Thunder—and blazes!” ‘‘ And they have stolen a young woman who was visiting at the Claibornes’, She was the daughter of some persons whom they murdered, and carried off and adopted the child—but she never liked to live with them, and finally suc- ceeded in getting away from them. The Clai- bornes were hiding and protecting her. Vl tell you her story some time. Td-give all I’m worth to get her safely out of their hands—for __ The Outlaw Brothers. ee { do?’ asked the hunter, | “‘‘ Well, I reckon it’s nigh on to about ten miles from here. I’m nowise sartain ’twas them I saw, about two o'clock this arternoon, but I’ve my reasons for thinkin’ ’twas. And if *twas them, they’ll put up thar to-night—’causo it’s too stormy for man or beast to be abroad; and we can reach the spot afore daylight.” Brutus now came up with King’s horse and another which he had taken without permission from the stable—the emergency justifying the liberty, in his opinion. He breathed hard with the haste of his expedition. ‘* What reason have you for thinking you saw the Harpes?” ‘*A good deal of reason, come to put it all together. I was comin’ in from the hunt, with the rest you saw there to the tavern. We was in a wild sort of a place, full ten miles from hyer, trudgin’ for Coon’s, as we saw the storm comin’; I was quite a piece ahead of the others, when I thought I heerd an animal trampin’ and snuffin’ some ways off, towards a desput wild holler, which I knew lay to the right. It wasa ravine, with rocks risin’ up on t’otner side—a place I knew well, and had been through often though none of my friends knew about it. Vd killed two b’ars in that ravine the winter afore, and as I heerd the critter movin’, I thought it mought be another b’ar, sol jist moved softly towards it to diskiver. I wanted the glory of killin’ the b’ar without help; so I didn’t wait for tiothers, but crept along about a hundred ards till lcome to a’ spot where I could peep into the holler, and there I saw, instid of m b’ar, a couple o’ tame horses, tethered with ropes, and with thur saddles on, quietly grazin’, 1 thought, at the time, it was mighty queer, and | was mad, for two reasons: one at not findin’ a b’ar, and t’other bekase I was afraid somebody had diskivered my house, as | call it. Yer see, under them rock thur’s an openin’ into as purty a cave as ever ye sot eyes on—dry an’ high, with a nat’ral sort of a chimney, where a person can have a fire. I’ve staid in it more’n one night. I’ve often used it fora storehouse; by puttin’ up a timber or two against the entrance, to keep out wild animals, I could keep my skins and blankets and things in thar, when I was out on a trappin’ frolic. Wal, when I see’d the horses I made up my mind somebody was prowlin’ around and makin’ head-quarters in the cave. I couldn’t decide whether it was Injuns racin’ down here on a stealin’ expedition, or some o’ them counterfeiters as has been chased pretty lively lately. It wur a-beginning to rain pretty smart, by that time, so 1 made up my mind I’d say nothin’ to the boys to-night, but ‘arly in the mornin’ we’d make up a party, and inquire into the matter. I never thought of them Harpes! Biast ’em; if I had, we’d ’a’ had thur skins afore this, for thar was six of us, and we'd ’a’ quickly smoked them out o’ thur hole.” ** But do you really think they’ll go back there? Won’t they ride all night, and be far | away before we begin our pursuit?’ -n’t be cute if they did. Um afraid they will either kill her, or torment | her in some manner, to punish her for running away. Besides, if they once get fairly away with her, we'll never get trace of her again.” If it had not been dark, the young man might have noticed the hunter screech his head vigorously, with a reflective look, asif trying to waken a sleeping idea. ‘Oh, Brutus, why do you not make haste?” sain cried Caleb. ‘‘ Soe here, stranger, what’s yer name? Smith, I b’lieve. You needn’t—” “My name is not Smith—it’s King—I said that for a joke on the fellow who asked me so many questions,” said poor Caleb, in remorse for Masarinc played tricks on those whom he might now need for friends. “I always say my name is Smith when any one asks who has no right. Call me King, friend.” ‘Wal, Mr, King, I’ve a notion I can help you a little.” ‘“‘TIn what way?” was eagerly asked. ‘* Mind, I don’t say I kin} only say Ive a notion I kin. So you mustn’t be disapp’inted if I make a mistake—” , “Oh, why doesv’t he come with that horse?” interposed Caleb, “ ‘* And if I should be right in my guess,” pro- ceeded the hunter, “‘thar’s no need of yer bein’ in sech a terrible hurry. Now, mind, I say I ain’t sure, but I believe I kin show you whar them devils has their den at present, and whar they'll take the girl.” aleb made a dodge in the dark to seize his Where?” ‘* Where? _ ——— ne ee... | i | ‘IT reckon they won’t, stranger. They would- They know very well the whole country’d be roused in the mornin’, men closin’ in all directions, runnin’ fifty and a hundred miles arter ’em—while here they’ll be, right under our noses, safe and sound, If I hadn’t happened to see their horses this arter- noon, V’ll bet they mought stay thar six months without bein’ tracked. They sartinly won't stir out of that afore to-morrow night, and I doubt if they do then. They’ve probably got things fixed for a comfortable stay.” Well?” asked Caleb, groaning with impa- tience, as he thought of the girl’s fright and danger, in that lonely place with those terrible men, _ “You don’t s’pose the gal’s in any partik’ler immejit danger?” asked Old Hick, seeing his distress of mind. “TIT don’t know. She says the men have always treated her kindly, especially the one who calls himself her father; buv their anger at her escape, and the: trouble they have had in finding her, may exasperate them into murder- ing her. Why they have ever shown any more mercy to her than to the other helpless creatures who have fallen into their hands, is a mystery.” **°Tain’t no mystery to dis pusson,” muttered Brutus to himself. ‘I knows what der arter— no mistake ’bout dat.” ‘**Tain’t likely they’ll kill her if they’ve had an object in keepin’ her so many years,” re- marked the hunter. ‘ But, whatever's up, it’s safest and best to wait a few hours, since we know whar they’ll bring up. Yer see if we track ’em too close, we run the resk o’ bein’ shot mew friend’s hand, in a sudden burst of hope | down in the dark without doin’ her no good; ‘and gratitude: while, if we wait till they’s housed, and p’raps sound asleep, we can bag ’em without no gg eg a trouble. Another thing in favor of takin’ %% cool: I reckon the rain will quit off a little after midnight, when the moon rises; it would be unpossible to find our way in this darkness, and to carry a light would be to expose ourselves and kiver them. We must get a good ready, ‘*k, b th and set out about two o’cloc 6 light of the moon, I'll do mighty well, then, if I keep the track, for I tell ye, thar ain’t a wilder spo! in Kentuck than that same holler, and the ° path that leads to it.” ‘ Better adjourn, den, to de square’s, He’ll be mighty oneasy when he finds me and Miss Bella missin’; didn’ have time to stop in de house and tell ’em what had happened. Ob, my! Oh, Lordy! To t’ink I should set myself round about dat young lady like a ring of glory or a hedge-fence, fur to } urtect her, and keep dem painters ’way all summer, jest to spring on dat poor lamb, and carry hc r ot aforeemy eyer, at last, in de whisk of a piz,’s tail! Oh, Lordy, it’s too bad!” | The old servant’s distress was too great for Caleb to add to it by repronches; even if there had been any cause for reproach, which he had no reason to think. He knew that the cunning of those diabolical men was more that a matc /) for the utmost prudence; and he blamed him- self—only himself—that he had left that help- less young girl so long exposed to the dangers of her situation, Why had he not dropped all his business interests, and conveyed her to a place of safety? It was what he should have done. How paltry now ay peared every other consideration beside that of her welfare! Ah, Caleb King bad not made those five or six visits to the squire’s without becoming more and more weet pt involved in t)he cause of the beau- tiful orphan. It is dangeious to the generors and sensitive heart to extend protection to youth and eng The mere fact that Bella regarded him with such gratitude, and had such faith in his promise to protect her, was enou: h of itself to make him think tenderly of her, The bright blush which sprung to her cheek whi n they met, tbe flutter of | er heart, the trembling of her hand, the soft light of the full, dark eve, had already done their magie work upon ‘bis heart. Yet he did not know it—he scarcely sus- pected it now. He only felt that his soul was weary with intolerable su: pense. ‘Yes, it will be best to go to the squire’s in the mean time,” he said, ‘‘ unless it takes us too far away.” ‘* It’s to the south, ain’t it, Squire Claiborne’s? Then it’s out of our way; but I think thar’s a cross-cut from there, ’twill bring us out nigh to the p’int where we leave the main road. We may as well stop there as anywhere,” ‘But how about getting more help from the town?’ asked Caleb, . ‘Three to two’s enough, if thur trusty,” said the hunter, curtly. “Are you sure with the rifle, my colored friend?’ ‘“T dunno any man, ’ceptin’ Old Hick, that | guv up to,” ‘** Yes, Brutus is better than two ordinary f:’- lows,” continued Caleb; “strong as a lion, coc , and familiar with the rifle.” , ‘Then we don’t want more company. It’s » experience that enough’s better than too mv Silence and cunning is what traps the gan... Lead on, stranger, to the squire’s,’ ‘*And you, Brutus, put that borrowed hor: * back in the stable.” As they passed the tavern, Brutus returr the horse, and the three men walked rapic © forward in the rain, leading Caleb’s anin: . which his master would not mount, since 1! - hunter was on foot. It was not until they wo « drying themselves in the great kitchen of t! » house, with the squire’s family gathered an o— iously about, that Caleb learned the incide) ‘s | touching the kidnapping of the young won: Incidents they could hardly be called, for 1 : was but the meager fact that Bella had bee: the kitchen, after supper, unusually bright © happy, and wishing some cool water to d)): had stepped outside to the well, which was four feet from the door, and upon which { light from the kitchen fell distinctly. ‘W) she did not come in again, the cook went to door, looked about, called, and thinking Miss Bella had run round to the front door, t ought no more of it, until her mistress came out and asked for her; and then “There were hurryings to and fro.” The squire was summoned from his comfortable seat in the keeping-room, and great inquirics were made for Brutus. When it was ascertai» - ed that neither he nor Bella were anywher about the place, the alarm increased. Th» young girl had won herself too warm a place .4 om rm fe Cl Goi (EL ONO) 7 com